The Story of Hamlet Kinda
by AyamiAras
Summary: The play "Hamlet" has been shorted and tweaked to the point of it almost being something else while still following the basic plot line. I changed a few character traits, added a few jokes, and made the story my own. Hope you enjoy it.
1. Prologue

**THE STORY OF HAMLET (KINDA)**

A fast paced fanfic based off of the play Hamlet by Shakespeare

Dedicated to my friend, J.

Prologue:

It was a fine afternoon in the glorious country of Denmark and everyone was enjoying themselves, everyone from the lowest class all the way up to the royal family. The King and Queen, Old Hamlet and Gertrude were sitting on a stone bench in the garden surrounded by red and pink roses. "You know I love you, my sweet Queen, right Gertrude?" The king asked of his wife.

"Of course, and I love you just as much, my King," she replied to him. They kissed sweetly before the King stood up with a flourish of his robe and announced, "But alas! We cannot be together for very long on such a sweet afternoon as this for the responsibility of the royal family calls me to complete my duties and run this beautiful country of ours! Farewell my fair queen. I hope I shall see thee soon for my heart cannot bear to be too far from you for so long!" With a loving smile and a small wave of his hand he left the garden to continue his work running the country.

The queen wasn't too lonely once the King left because mere minutes after his majesty exited the garden the king's brother entered it. "Hello there, fair queen. Isn't this afternoon lovely? Of course, not as lovely as thee." He pecked her on the cheek, which she received graciously. This wasn't the first time the two had spent time together, nor was it the first time lips were pressed together. The two had had a secrete relationship going for several years now; it was a wonder they hadn't been caught yet.

"Sweet Claudius, I pray you don't leave so soon," the queen begged as her lover stood to leave the garden as his brother had before him. He flashed a warm smile in her direction and answered sweetly, "Ah, my dear I wish it wasn't so myself, but I cannot afford to be absent for so long a time." Then he knelt in front of Gertrude in front of the bench and took her hand in his own, "Gertrude, I pray that you remember that whether we are together or apart you are always with me in my heart and I wish to hear that you also carry myself around with you in your own heart. Nay, I do not need to hear what I know in my own heart is true. Farewell my love!" Claudius stood quickly and disappeared leaving the queen alone in the garden once more.

"Oh, my dear Claudius, I wish I could with all certainty tell you that your words were true, but I do not know if they are. It is true that I think about you constantly and that if it were not my vows to your brother I would take thee to wed. However," she paused in her soliloquy and placed a delicate hand on her bosom. "However, I still do have feelings for Hamlet. He was my first husband and my first true romancer. He is so sweet and kind to me. It makes me feel guilty to hear his boundless confessions of love to me when I am going behind his back with none other than his own brother. He suspects nothing and trusts me completely and his trust in me burns! Oh Hamlet! Oh Claudius! Oh woe is me!" Troubled, the queen Gertrude left the garden.

Slowly, with a frown upon his lips Claudius rose from a thorny rose bush. In the name of loving curiosity, Claudius had hidden himself away in a bush to hear if the queen, his true love, would say anything about him. He wished to hear her true, unguarded feelings. Now he was truly upset, not just jealous of his brother, but sympathy for the queen's troubles.

Three days later the King Old Hamlet was found dead in the garden. He had been poisoned, but that fact had been quickly and expertly covered up from everyone but the murderer. Not too much longer after that the Queen remarried Claudius, the dead king's brother.


	2. The Story of Hamlet

"Hamlet! Hamlet!" A ghostly voice called out for the young prince and its voice echoed down the corridors. Hamlet, who had been sleeping restlessly after hearing of the death of his father, woke easily. "Hamlet!" The voice called again. Rising from bed, the prince, whose name was being called, rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Was he dreaming? Impossible, he hadn't been able to fall asleep since his father's death and if he did he only dreamt nightmares. "Hamlet!" Wearing only his sleeping gown, Hamlet left the warmth of his bed and the safety of his room and followed the voice. Eventually he found himself on the roof. The wind blew cold through his thin nightwear.

"My Lord Hamlet?" A pair of guards on the roof recognized the young prince and approached carefully, "My Lord, what are you doing up here?"

Looking around the roof and then at the two guards the young man responded easily, "I do not know. I was following a ghostly voice which was calling my name."

"Calling your name?" "A ghostly voice?" The guards exchanged looks when suddenly the voice called out again, "Hamlet!" Quickly raising their weapons and ready to attack the guards lashed their heads around, looking for the source of the voice. "It's back!" one of the guards shouted.

"Back? What's back?" Hamlet cried.

"It's coming from over here!" Another voice called. Soon three more men appeared running around a corner. They stopped short, recognizing Hamlet. "Hamlet," one of the men shouted, shocked, "What are you doing up here so early in the morning? And only in your night clothes! Why, you'll catch your death up here!"

"Horatio!" Hamlet knew the man who spoke for he was an old school chum of his and very smart at that. "Why, I could be asking you the same, I thought you were still at school! What brings you here?"

Before the young scholar could answer the ghostly voice cried again, "Hamlet!" All the men shuddered and looked around. Horatio answered then, "That is the reason I am here. I came to exorcize the demon."

"A demon? On my roof?" Hamlet was shocked, "What would such a thing want here?" As if it were answering Hamlet's question a misty ghost appeared before the group. It wasn't the ghost itself that shocked Hamlet the most, but the form it took. The ghost leaped as if it still had earthly energy over to Hamlet's side before it opened its jaw and a ghostly sound came out, "Woof!"

"Why this demon looks exactly like my faithful hunting dog, Beowulf!" Hamlet turned to the others in disbelief.

"That's because it is your faithful hunting dog, Beowulf!" The same ghostly voice which had called out Hamlet's name was speaking to him now. Another apparition appeared beside the dog, this one taking an even more shocking form: Old King Hamlet.

A unified gasp came from the men assembled. The ghost king surveyed his audience and then smiled, asking in a booming voice, "Good evening gentlemen. May I have a private word with my son?"

No one moved more than to look at each other, hoping that the other would have an answer. No one did, except for Hamlet himself. He stepped forward to greet the ghost, but Horatio quickly grabbed onto his sleeve to stop him, "Hamlet! You mustn't go! What if it is a trap, a trick from Hell?"

Grinning foolishly, Hamlet pulled his sleeve from his friend's grasp, "I'll be fine, Horatio, what's the worst that could happen?" With those reassuring words, Hamlet followed the pair of ghosts which had begun to float away.

Quietly to himself, Horatio voiced his fears, "Oh Hamlet, if only you weren't so reckless or so brave or such a fool I wouldn't have to worry. But alas, it was those very same traits that I fell in love with, as did the rest of Denmark." He sighed, defeated and then quickly muttered to himself, "But I love thee the most."

After the ghost king and the ghost dog had lead Hamlet away from the others the ghost king pet the ghost dog and laughed deeply, "Can you believe that I found him? I would have never thought that I would meet up with this old hound again, but here we are, reunited at last! But Hamlet, this visit isn't all merriment and pleasure; I have grave news to tell you from beyond the grave."

"This isn't the time for puns," Hamlet murmured absently as he lifted a hand to pet the ghost dog, but it went right through. The dog evaporated and reappeared a few feet away again.

"Quite right my son, quite right! Now, I am your father and as you know I am dead, but as you may not know I was murdered!" He spoke in an epic voice as if he was a bard telling an epic poem. "It was Claudius, in the garden with the ear poison!"

Hamlet gasped, "Ear poison?"

"Yes, ear poison," the ghost nodded solemnly.

"But how do I know that thou truly are my father?" Hamlet asked skeptically. He wasn't a stupid young man after all.

The ghost king smiled as if this was what he had been waiting for this whole time, "How do you know? I'll tell you how you know. I am your father because I promised that I would not let the sky fall on your head." It was a promise that the Old King Hamlet had made to his son during a meteor shower.

Smiling as he reminisced in the memory of long ago, Hamlet quickly pointed out, "That doesn't prove anything that you know that."

"No? Then how about this one? When you were seven years old you thought Ophelia was drowning in the river and you jumped in to save her while you had never been swimming a day in your life. She ended up having to save you for she wasn't really drowning, simply taking a swim after a long hot day."

Hamlet blushed a little bit at that one. It was an embarrassing memory, but he still refused to believe that these tid bits of information about his childhood proved that this ghost was indeed his father. Until, of course, his father started to say, "And I know that you keep those magazines tucked in an old book in the loft in your bedroom on the third shelf up behind the maroon curtain. And you keep those magazines because you—" But he wasn't able to finish for Hamlet had turned red as a beet and was waving his arms around yelling, "Okay! Okay! I believe you! I believe you! You are my father!"

Extremely happy, the ghost king threw his arms out as if he was going to give his son a hug while shouting in a booming voice, "I knew you would come around my son! And I knew that you wouldn't believe me right away either! You are a smart boy; that's the way I raised you! Good job, Hamlet! Good job!" Of course the ghost couldn't actually give Hamlet a hug, so he gave him an air hug. "Oh Hamlet, I miss you, my son, but I am sure that soon enough we will be reunited again. Before that however, you must get my revenge on my brother for me. Do you think you could do that for me? Please, Hamlet?"

Smiling, Hamlet nodded. This truly was his father. He had always been a doting father and husband. It was strange how he could move so easily from a doting father to a mighty ruler in a matter of seconds. Hamlet loved him and missed his father terribly. "I'll get your revenge, Father, against your murderous brother and treacherous wife," Hamlet agreed to the job solemnly.

"Oh, no no no no no no, Hamlet," the ghost king wagged his finger as his son, "You must take your revenge out on only my brother. Leave your mother for heaven to deal with. Besides, I still love your mother dearly and I cannot bear to see her being murdered by our very own son." He wiped a fake ghost tear from his dull ghost eyes.

Hamlet smiled sadly, but nodded. Yup, that was his dad alright.

Suddenly a rooster from somewhere crowed. "Morning has come. I bid you a farewell, my son, and don't forget what I have said tonight," before he could finish his farewell his body had evaporated and disappeared in the morning glow along with the ghost of Beowulf.

Hamlet was caught in the moment and continued to stand in the same place as the sun rose. "Twas my father indeed," he said to no one but himself, "and my loyal hound," he laughed. "But to learn so suddenly of my father's murder, and right after all these other natural shocks is too much! First my father's death, then my mother's speedy marriage, then to meet my father once again after I had finally accepted that I would never see him again, then to learn that he was murdered (and by his own brother no less)! Now I must kill my uncle, now father. Why is fate so cruel to only I? Why must I be the one to shoulder all of these miseries when people like my uncle smile and laugh merrily, seemingly enjoying life. Troubles are always shoved onto the good. Is it to test us?" Hamlet turned towards the rising sun, "Are you testing me? Or perhaps I am being punished for some wrong doing I have committed without fully realizing it." He paused to think, "Perhaps when I was at school not too long ago and I said that rude comment to my professor. Yes, I do think that that was a very rude thing indeed to say, but I do not think that this is punishment fit for such a deed. I am sorry by all means now as well. Or perhaps I am forced to shoulder the burdens of my blood as whole generations have been plagued for the wrong-doings of a single person." Turning away from the sun, Hamlet saw a dark spot in front of his eyes. "No matter the reason, this is what I must do and I shall do it without hesitation. For what is the point of thinking and speaking when thinking and speaking do nothing? Thought only delays the necessary action. I shall face my duty and see it through or my name isn't Hamlet!"

When the sun finally rose above the landscape, Hamlet left the spot he had been standing in and found the others waiting loyally for his return. They rushed him, everyone talking at once until Horatio spoke above the dull roar, "Quiet! All of you! First thing first: Hamlet, are you alright? The ghost didn't harm you in any physical or spiritual way?"

Smiling at his concerned friend, the young man shook his head, but pulled Horatio in close as if he was going to tell him a secret. He beckoned the other men to come in close as well and then he whispered urgently, "I am fine, in fact I am as healthy as a horse, but unfortunately my wits are slipping." He grinned as he said this.

"My Lord?" One of the guards asked.

"Listen here, all of you. I don't want any one of you to speak a word of what you have witnessed tonight. Wipe it completely from your memories and remember only what I am telling you now. I have specific duties that I must complete and in order to complete them I must put on an antic disposition, do you hear me? But none of you should smile or over play your part to let others know that you know that I am not truly out of my mind. Do you all understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," they all said in unison.

Smiling, Hamlet stood up straight, "Good. Very well then, continue with your day." Hamlet then quickly scampered off.

The guards all continued on with their duties while Horatio quickly stole after his friend and stopped him before he had left the roof, "Hamlet! Hamlet, my dear friend, I am worried about you. Are you sure that you are fine? The ghost was truly friendly? You can trust me, Hamlet, so I beseech you, do tell me what happened."

"Horatio, you are indeed a good and trustworthy friend, but to be truthful, I am not quite so sure what has happened myself. Already the event seems to have a dream-like quality to it and the details are slipping away. I am left with only a clear understanding of what must be done, that I will tell you now. Horatio, the king now, my father's brother, my uncle, murdered my father, the now past dead Old King Hamlet. I must take revenge upon him for my father's soul. Quiet now, I hear someone coming. Go Horatio, I shall speak to you of this another time."

Obediently, Horatio snuck away, but not before whispering quickly and quietly to Hamlet, "Hamlet, my dear prince, you know of my feelings towards you and you know that I would give my life to save yours. I wish you the best of luck and all my love in your quest and my own services whenever you see them fit to use. I shall always be here at your service, my Lord." Hamlet batted at him, shooing him away. Horatio sulked off quickly and quietly.

The person Hamlet heard coming appeared at almost the same time as Horatio disappeared and whether the first saw the latter, there was no indication of it on her face. The young maiden stopped as she beheld the prince still in his sleeping gown. "Why, Hamlet! What are you doing still wearing your night clothes?" She blushed and turned away. It was not proper for a lady to see so much of anyone but her husband, although she hoped that that is what Hamlet would soon be to her.

Seeing that it was Ophelia, Hamlet's face lit up with a smile as he approached his love. "My beautiful Ophelia, there is a very good reason that I am dressed this way, which I would tell you if not for my mind being muddled by your radiance this wonderful morning."

Stilling looking away, Ophelia smiled and replied to him, "Oh Hamlet, you are charming, but do please put on some proper attire so we may speak respectfully."

"I am afraid that I cannot bear to be away from you for so long, my dear," Hamlet reached out a hand and gently stroked Ophelia's arm.

Grabbing Hamlet's hand with her own dainty one, Ophelia smiled, "We were apart for all of the night and have been parted for longer periods of time in the past, my Lord."

"But once I have you in my sight it is unbearable to leave for any amount of time."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Aye, but at what cost? For my heart aches when it is not with yours."

"But our hearts will always be together, Hamlet."

"Very well said, my sweet Ophelia, I shall change, but promise that you shall be here for me when I return."

Ophelia promised Hamlet and he walked quickly off to change. Before he disappeared completely, he turned to face Ophelia and blew her a kiss which Ophelia gladly accepted. Once Hamlet was gone Ophelia sighed. Her blush was fading from her face, "Oh Hamlet. You are such a charming gentleman and I love thee intensely, but I do worry. Why were you in only your nightgown this morning? And why on the roof? It makes little sense to me and I am eager to hear his explanation. I hope nothing is troubling him, but if there is I shall do my best to help him through any difficulties and tame his sorrows with my love. Oh Hamlet, let me help you with whatever your troubles may be. I can do it! I can be helpful to you Hamlet! I want to prove that there are more reasons than just my looks for you to love me!"

Hamlet had changed quickly and reappeared in front of the young woman. He was still buttoning up his shirt collar, showing how eager he was to return to his love. The lovers smiled at each other and wasted no time in taking each other in their arms. They kissed each other chastely, but passionately. When they finally parted, Ophelia looked deep into Hamlet's eyes and asked him, "Hamlet, please tell me what is troubling you."

Looking down at his future bride with sad eyes, Hamlet pet her head, stroking her hair back. "My dear Ophelia I wish to not trouble you with such things."

"Please, my love, unburden yourself upon me. How else can I be useful to you?" Ophelia cried, hugging him strongly.

The young prince looked lovingly at the pretty maiden. She was so sweet and Hamlet loved her, "If you insist, my love, I shall tell you, but it might be a shock to you, so please prepare yourself."

"I am prepared, Hamlet."

"Well, here's the event as it presented itself to me…" Hamlet quickly explained what happened to him that morning to his love who interrupted frequently with questions of little significance as women tend to do. When the story was finally ended and his plan reveled, Ophelia showed little signs of shock besides her wide eyes.

"Hamlet, my love, let me help you! I shall join you in your plan of becoming mad! I can also act well, my Lord," Ophelia spoke quickly and eagerly, begging to be helpful to the man that she loved.

"No, Ophelia, I do not wish to drag you into my problems. This is for me to solve by my own hands."

"Oh Hamlet please! I wish to be of help to you! Let me help you! I beg of you!"

"No! Ophelia, no. I have told you of my problems and that is as far as I ever intended to go. I will not bother you with such dangerous problems as my own."

With that said, Ophelia knew she could not win and she stomped off, frustrated and upset. Hamlet let her go. It was best for her. "Ophelia, my sweet, sweet, Ophelia. I'm terribly sorry for this and I hope that you will accept my apology and understand my reasoning when this is all over. I simply want to keep you safe. You are my one and only love and I could not bear it if you came to any harm. That is why," he paused, "that is why I am about to do what I am about to do. In my madness I shall forget you. I shall become angry at you and yell at you. I shall make it clear without a doubt in anyone's mind that I shall not have anything to do with you. If I have no connection to you, you shall be left alone. This is my way of protecting you, please forgive me, Ophelia!" Hamlet quickly left the corridor and continued to think things over.

In one of the many rooms of the castle the Queen was awaiting her husband for a meeting they were supposed to have with their top advisor, Polonious. Polonious was already there, but instead of waiting impatiently for the king, he was taking advantage of his absence. "My, my, you are looking lovely this evening, my sweet Queen. May I lay a kiss upon your hand?" He took her hand gently within his own and planted a dry kiss on the back of it. Stilling gripping her wrist, he pulled himself closer to her and whispered, "If your new husband ever leaves you feeling dissatisfied you can always come to me, and I will liberate your soul."

The Queen, trying not to let her disgust show, smiled politely and yanked her hand away. "Excuse me, that is very kind of you to offer, but I am afraid that I might not be needing your services."

"Aye, not now. You are newly wedded, I would not expect to see thee in my bedchambers so soon, but later, yes later, as time passes he will grow cold towards you." Polonious spoke as if he had experience in this area, "It is always fine and lovey-dovey at the beginning, but as time passes the hot and fiery passion of youth will fade away. Now I know what you are thinking: Polonious you are already a very old man, isn't your fire no more than an ember now? But let me tell you this: even an ember can be kindled and spark back up into a roaring fire if given enough love and my love is ready to be kindled by you, my queen."

Luckily the Queen was saved by the swift entrance of her King. Polonious quickly disengaged himself from the queen and took a few respectable steps back. The King, unaware that anything had taken place, spoke in a proud and booming voice, "Thank you very much for meeting me here, Polonious. I hear that you have some information about why my son has been acting the way he has, an insight into the mind of a mad man."

"Y-yes, your majesty," Polonious was afraid at first that the king had caught him flirting with his wife the way he spoke with such a loud and powerful voice. Quickly recovering he began to reveal his knowledge, "Now I have a daughter, as I am sure you are aware, who has been somewhat smitten with your Hamlet. Now, now I know what you are thinking, but I assure you that Hamlet is just as taken with my Ophelia as she is with him. She proved it to me by showing me the various affections he has given her, poems, flowers long since wilted, small trinkets, and the like. Recently she has been avoiding Lord Hamlet, the reason being a fight she explained. I do not know the exact origins of the disagreement, but you know how a lover's quarrel can be. Apparently it was a nasty fight and even Ophelia is upset about it. This took place around the exact same time that Lord Hamlet's mind started slipping." The old man grinned having proven his cleverness and was waiting to be praised.

The king considered what Polonious had said and then spoke again in his overpowering voice, "Polonious, you are my top advisor, no?"

"Uhh, yes sir," Polonious answered, confused that he wasn't being praised yet.

"And how long have you served this monarchy?"

"All my life, sir."

The king nodded and rubbed his chin, "Your opinions are always valuable to me, but I have problems accepting that Hamlet has gone mad simply because he got into a fight with your daughter.

"Oh, but it isn't just that, dear." The queen, who had been silent this whole time spoke softly to her husband, placing a hand gently on his forearm, "It must also be stemming from his father's death and then our speedy marriage. Adding this fight with Ophelia he must feel as though he has not a friend in the world he can turn to."

The king accepted this thought, but wasn't quite convinced yet and it showed on his face. Quickly adding more to his argument, Polonious offered, "We can put it to a test if this information is not enough for your highness. I suggest we let my daughter roam freely and let her run into Lord Hamlet by coincidence. While they meet and speak to one another we shall hide behind a curtain or large door and listen to their conversation. Then you shall be convinced or not whether it is my daughter who drove your Hamlet mad." He seemed proud of his plan despite the fact that he had just blamed his own daughter.

The king agreed to the plan and told Polonious to quickly set up the meeting. By chance Ophelia happened to walk through the room. Her father pulled her aside and told her of the plan and what she was supposed to do. Ophelia, being a good, obedient daughter quickly agreed and told her father that she had seen Hamlet on his way here as well. She then proceeded to make up some extravagant tale of some other mad thing she had seen him do. Excited that they would be able to put their plan into action so quickly, Polonious and the King and Queen quickly hid behind a hanging drape.

Hamlet entered the seemingly empty room besides his love and approached her. Unsure of what he was going to say to her since he determined to push her away in his madness, but also aware that he must say something since their paths had crossed he spoke aloud, "Greetings fair maiden."

Ophelia, aware of the king and her father listening in, attempted to let Hamlet know, "Good afternoon, Lord Hamlet. It is nice to have you speak to my face instead of hiding behind walls and draperies, spying on myself."

This never happened. Hamlet stopped a few yards away from Ophelia still, pondering what she had just said. Either she was still upset about him not letting her help him but was still trying to, or there was something else she was trying to say to him. Carefully, he continued, "My my, I never did such a thing. I am of the royal family; we do not stoop to such low practices such as spying."

"The royal family has no such safeguard from succumbing to being spies, Lord Hamlet."

"What? How dare you accuse me of such a high crime as that! You may have flowers in thy hair but they also bloom in thy mind." Hamlet had caught her meaning. Claudius was spying on him and he proceeded to act his part while also talking to Ophelia and her to him in subtexts.

"Name calling again, Hamlet? You may be mad, but that gives you no permission to toy with a lady's emotions!" Ophelia shouted, over acting her part just a little bit. "After that fight and all the nasty things you said to me and then greeting me so sweetly upon entering this room. Now you are back to the nasty words. And here I had thought that we might be able to make up and your mind would return to its former disposition."

"Ophelia, you always make mountains out of mole hills and arguments do not suit you at all. Do not make things up, Ophelia, or else you shall make the heavens dump frogs upon us all." Hamlet scolded her angrily. She would destroy his whole plan with her stories!

"Hamlet, you know I love you despite our arguments and I merely wish to help you when you are troubled, please allow me to assist you, my love. You may trust your antic mind to my care."

Sighing at her arguments, Hamlet finally bended, "Fine, Ophelia! Love me! Love me as I once loved you and it will change only one thing! Do as your flowers command thee, but be weary of your roots!" With that Hamlet stormed off muttering other nonsensical things to himself.

"My my, isn't love a funny thing?" Polonious said to the king, but mostly the queen, chucking as they emerged from their hiding place. "Very well done, my daughter. I believe this proves my point wonderfully. Lord Hamlet is in love with Ophelia and after their fight has gone mad. And you know it must be a very hard thing for a member of the royal family and one who is not of royal blood to be together, but if it were me I would be sure to make it work!"

"This may be the case, but whatever the reason, Hamlet might become a danger. I believe it would be in everyone's best interest for him to be sent away, perhaps to England, to regain his wits." The king voiced his thoughts to those present. "I must ponder this some more, I shall be in my study please do not disturb me unless great matters are pressing thee to do so. Ophelia, you are dismissed." With that both the king and Ophelia exited leaving a very uncomfortable queen with a very contented Polonious.

"My queen, isn't it depressing to see our children's love crumble so easily? Ah, tis the folly of youth. With age comes experience and a more stable loving relationship." Polonius tried to get closer to the queen, but she took a step back.

Suddenly Hamlet's voice is heard again calling from down the hall, "I have not returned for you Ophelia, there is another whore whom with I must discus. Where is my mother?" Upon hearing Hamlet's voice calling so angrily, and being caught in what he thought to be a compromising situation, Polonious quickly re-hid himself behind the drapes. When Hamlet entered the room he caught sight of his mother standing alone and spoke with a surprised voice, "Why mother, how silly, I was just in this room. I did not expect to find you here. I was simply traveling to the western side of the east wing."

"Hamlet," his mother sighed sorrowfully, upset at his mental instability.

"Mother, there is something I wish to discuss with you," Hamlet said approaching her, "it is about my father, my true father. How could you betray him? He loved you so deeply and if I am not mistaken you loved him as deeply as well. There are no memories of my childhood marred with violent discussions or quarrels. How could you remarry so quickly after his death and to none other than his own brother? _Your_ brother? Does love mean so little to you?" By this time Hamlet was inches from his mother's face shouting at her.

"Hamlet!" The queen cried taking a step back. She stumbled and fell back. On the ground she began to sob, "Hamlet, I am sorry! I am truly sorry! This must be the true reason for your madness! It is not fair to you, our son, and to you I apologize. You may be angry with me and the choice I made, but do not scorn my love for it is as real as the love you felt for Ophelia or the love I due to you, my son. I loved your father dearly and when we married I would have had no other man by my side. However, as the marriage wore on another man stepped into my life. It is not as if my feelings for your father were dimmed, but as if yet another heart had grown and was falling in love on its own. I knew I shouldn't have loved any other man, but I couldn't help it! He was tall, strong, down to earth, very wise…"

During his mother's confession, Hamlet grew even angrier with her. How dare she try to brush this off as something so trivial? How could anyone love two people at once? He knew that he himself loved only one woman and that was Ophelia and as long as he loved her he would love no other. As the queen was describing her secret love, Polonious from behind the curtain thought that she was confessing her love of him and, caught in the moment, released a loving sigh.

Upon hearing the noise from behind the curtain and angry as he was, Hamlet whirled around quickly drawing his sword in the same motion and before the echo of the sound died off Hamlet had stabbed the curtains crying, "A rat! A rat! Let me exterminate the problem and get rid of the pest!"

The queen cried in fright as the curtains were stained with a deep crimson and the bulk behind them fell to the ground. Pulling them aside, Hamlet found the wise old fool Polonious dead on the ground. Crying hysterically, the queen crawled over to Polonious's bloody body and wept, "Oh Polonious, oh Polonious! You old fool who always came to me with a smile no matter how many times I brushed thee off or pushed thee away! True, at times I even found thee annoying, but oh how some days your simple smile was my saving grace! I may not have realized it while you were alive and for that I apologize! You deserve more good than I ever gave thee! You deserved to know my true feelings, how I really did love you, you old fool you! Oh God, please be merciful upon his soul!" The queen clung to his body, getting her own clothes soiled and continued to sob profusely.

Already originally upset that his mother had married his father's brother, to see her put on this show of also loving Polonious drew an angry passion to Hamlet's heart shadowing over his mind. Sword still in hand he held it up and shouted at his mother, "Get away from him you whore! You do not deserve to be begging God! Get up and get thee to a nunnery or else I shall send you to a place much worse!"

The queen responded only by sobbing louder and tightening her grip on the old man's dead body. Hamlet's sword fell, but it never made contact with his mother's flesh. In mid swing, his true father's ghost appeared quickly between his son and his wife, crying out, "Hamlet, no!" Hamlet's sword had buried itself deep into his father's flesh cutting through the shoulder and down his breast. An unnaturally dark colored blood spilt from the ghost's wounds. Looking at his injury and then back up at Hamlet with a dead look in his eye, the old king whispered hoarsely, "Hamlet, you have killed thine own father!"

Shocked at his second unintentional murder, Hamlet released his sword which stayed embedded in his father's body and backed away unstably, stumbling slightly. "No, no, nooooooo!" Grabbing onto his head, Hamlet cried his shame.

"Hamlet," his father interrupted in a sturdy voice, "I'm kidding, I'm already dead, remember?" The ghost pulled the sword out of his breast where upon his wounds healed immediately.

Regaining his composure and his breath, Hamlet finally let out an uncomfortable laugh which soon changed into one of relief and good humor, "Oh yeah." Growing a little serious, but also more at ease with his father, Hamlet waggled his finger, "You shouldn't joke about such things. You had me worried sick!" Hamlet repeated in his father's voice what his father had once said to him a long time ago when Hamlet played a prank on his parents by rushing in covered in swine blood crying that there had been an accident.

Recognizing the allusion to their shared past, the ghost laughed.

"Hamlet? Who are you talking to?" The queen had stopped crying at the strange scene her son was putting on.

"What? My sweet Honey can't see me?" The ghost whimpered slightly. He made a few kissy faces at his wife and tried to tickle her beneath the chin, but she did not react in the slightest.

Hamlet laughed at the various cries for attention his father was giving to his mother, "What? Can you not see him, Mother?" The ghost moved from kissy faces to just silly faces in general. He did a jig in front of his old wife, he pretended to be a hound, and he sat in her lap and begged her to look at him. Hamlet laughed at how silly and pathetic his father was acting. He really did miss his father. Then the ghost, his job being done, faded away.

Still smiling, Hamlet moved his mother aside, picked up his sword, wiped it off on the dead man's clothes, picked up Polonious's feet, and dragged him out of the room, "I apologize sincerely, Mother, but do not worry, I shall take care of everything." Hamlet smiled at her and then both he and the dead man exited the room, leaving the queen sitting in a puddle of blood.

Within a matter of moments, the King entered the room. Upon seeing his wife in a pool of blood he rushed over to her and gathered her weak body into his arms, "Oh my queen, my wife, my love, what has happened to thee? Where are you hurt? Speak, my love, speak!"

Weakly, the queen pushed Claudius away whispering, "I am fine, my lord. This is not my blood. I have not a scratch on me. Tis…tis…"

"Whose blood is it then, my dear?" Claudius pressed on quietly but urgently.

"Tis the blood of Polonious!" The Queen cried loudly and began sobbing. "Twas Hamlet!"

"Hamlet?" Claudius cried even louder. Then quietly to himself, "I knew he could be dangerous in his current state, but murdering innocent Polonious. What did he have against the old coot? But no matter his reasons I must settle this quickly somehow."

Interrupting the King's thoughts and plots, Hamlet reentered the room. He was still in good humor after the visit from his father and was smiling even though his front side was stained a deep red. "Hamlet!" The king cried angrily, "What have you done to Polonious?"

Grinning, the youth shrugged his shoulders, "He is at dinner."

Quickly calling out to his guard, the king ordered them to look for a body in all the dining areas in the castle, but to be quiet about it and not tell a soul.

"But he is not the one doing the eating," Hamlet added in a way that made the king question the real whereabouts of Polonious. Hamlet continued, "No, he is where the worms eat, for he is the meal now."

Before Claudius could react to Hamlet's odd statement, another youth burst into the doors screaming, "WHO KILLED MY FATHER?" Twas Laertes, Polonious's son. In his rage he whirled about and point accusing fingers at everyone in the room, "Was it you? YOU?" The finger landed on Claudius.

Backing up and slightly afraid, for a man in a rage was a dangerous thing, Claudius shook his head, "Twas not me, Laertes."

"Then who?" The mourning son cried out in desperate pain.

Slowly coming down from the high he received from seeing his father again, Hamlet bashfully raised his hand and looked down, ashamed, "Twas me, Laertes. Tis a long and painful story and…" but he was cut off.

"I shall get my vengeance, Hamlet, old friend or not, long story or short, you killed my father! I shall avenge him," All of Laertes' rage seemed to be coming to its climax when he announced his method of vengeance, "in a FENCING MATCH!"

The king couldn't help but chuckle, drawing the attention of both the young men, "I'm sorry, but," he began, "Hamlet, you are not the best fencer and I have seen Laertes fence. You are going to lose."

"I accept your challenge!" Hamlet shouted, ignoring his father. He had been practicing and he knew that he could defeat his old friend.

"Good! Then prepare yourself!" Laertes shouted while drawing two swords one of which he tossed to Hamlet who caught it easily enough. The fencing started almost immediately. The swords clacked, both players grew silent, and the king and queen watched in awe of the skills that both men showed. "You've gotten better, Hamlet." Laertes started to sweat, "But that won't stop me from getting my vengeance!" Laertes lunged while shouting, "This is for my father!" Hamlet barely dodged. Laertes lunged again, "And this is for my sister!"

Hamlet almost fell over, not only was the attack quick, but the cry had caught him off guard as well. "Ophelia? What is wrong with Ophelia?"

Laertes stopped attacking to answer woefully, "She's mad!"

"Oh," Hamlet fell to muttering to himself about Ophelia and her constantly getting in the way with her helpfulness; he sighed.

Before the fight could continue several servants rush in. The king asked if they had found Polonious' body yet, but they shook their head and whispered the news to the king and queen. The queen covered her mouth in shock and cried out, "Oh! Oh! Oh! Woe is me! Woe is us all! Sad day, covered in death! The sweet Ophelia is dead!"

"WHAT!" Both males dropped their swords and whirled around to face the queen and the servants. Without exchanging any more words, they all rushed out of the room to see for themselves the sight none of them wished to believe.

Outside the castle, in a graveyard, a freshly dug hole held a still warm body. The beautiful young maiden, Ophelia, was laid gently into her body's resting place. Laertes was the first upon the site. He fell to his knees in pain. Following him was Hamlet, the king and the queen. Hamlet stood rigidly beside Laertes. Looking up at his enemy with a pained expression on his face, the now only child was about to say something when he noticed something in Hamlet's clenched fist. "What is that?" He asked in a shaky voice.

Tossing the crumpled paper aside, Hamlet shook his head, "Nothing." Then to himself, he started mumbling, "My goodness does Ophelia want to prove herself, but I didn't think she'd go as far as to fake her own death!" Then aloud to Ophelia, "Oh, Ophelia, you were right!"

The grime covered gravedigger grabbed the shovel and thrust it into the pile of dirt beside the grave, "Time to bury the body."

"But, my dear, you didn't think this through!" Hamlet quickly jumped into the grave, feigning depression to try and stall the gravedigger from burying his love alive.

Ophelia's brother also leaped into her grave with real depression. To lose his father and now his sister was too much for him. "Hamlet!" he cried, "This is all your fault and I shall get my revenge!"

Hearing the dialogue, Ophelia finally decided that this would be a good time to come back to life. She quickly sat up and yelled at her brother, "No! Laertes, no! I love Hamlet!"

At this miracle everyone, except for Hamlet, dropped their jaws and stuttered, "Ophelia?" Hamlet smacked himself in the face in disbelief at the events that were taking place.

"But, but Ophelia," Laertes stuttered, still in happy shock that she was alive, "He murdered our father!"

"I don't care!" Ophelia shouted dramatically, "I still love him!"

Hamlet was more than just a little touched by Ophelia's quick and questionless devotion to him. When he heard of her death (before he found her note), he realized how much she really meant to him and how much he loved her as well. "Oh, Ophelia!" He shouted taking her in his arms in a sweet embrace.

"Oh, Hamlet!" She eagerly returned his hug.

"How dare you!" Laertes felt betrayed by his own sister after the death of their father, but most of all, he felt that it was Hamlet's fault. "Let us finish our duel!"

"Yes! Let's!" Hamlet eagerly agreed to finish their competition. Taking his love's hand, he helped her out of the ghastly grave and, along with his mother, made his way back to the castle. As Laertes struggled out of the grave on his own, the king reached a hand out to him. Once Laertes was out of the hole, the king produced a new fencing sword from under his cloak. He gave this to Laertes and whispered in his ear. After this, the two followed the other three back to the castle.

Back in the castle, Hamlet and Laertes got really into their fight. They dressed in fencing gear, found a better stage to fight in and even had a few people stop by to watch including the king, queen, Ophelia, and Horatio. The fighting lasted for a while and no one had any hits. Finally, Hamlet was able to gain a point. The king offered a drink to Hamlet, which he refused. He was too excited to drink anything now.

Then the queen, joyful at the good mood everyone seemed to be in thanks to the friendly match, picked up the drink her husband offered to Hamlet and held it up. "Cheers, to you Hamlet!" she joyfully shouted and took a drink. Claudius cried out for her to stop, but it was too late. Moments later, the queen fell from her chair and started gasping for breath. "Gertrude! My Queen! My Love!" Claudius cradled her head in his arms full of despair.

The scene distracted everyone from the match, even Hamlet. He started to move towards his mother to comfort her in her last moments and confront his uncle whom he suspected of this foul dead when a sharp pain stung his arm. Whipping around, Hamlet saw that Laertes had taking the chance and attacked him from behind, and what's more, his sword was sharpened and not dull like it should have been. Upset and angry, Hamlet flung Laertes' sword from his hand with his own and then picked it up himself.

Seeing the poisoned sword being pointed at himself, Laertes' eyes widened, but before he could beg for mercy or even say a word, Hamlet swung the sword down on his shoulder where it cut into his skin and the poison started to flow towards his heart. Falling onto his knees, Laertes cried, "I am so sorry, Hamlet! You are dead! And so am I! And your mother too! This was not what I wanted to accomplish!"

Not understanding what Laertes was talking about Hamlet tossed the swords aside and bent down next to his friend, "Laertes, calm down, what is the matter?"

"Forgive me, Hamlet! Please forgive me for all that I have done to thee. The sword was not just sharp, but tipped with poison as well. The drink was as well poisoned."

Hamlet grew furious at this betrayal, and he asked between clenched teeth, "Was this your idea, Laertes? Or did it come to you from someone else? Do tell me."

Seeing as how he was about to die, Laertes wanted to go with a clean conscience. He shook his head and whimpered weakly, "Twas the king who gave me the sword and poisoned the cup."

Hamlet spun around once more to face his uncle and now dead mother. Picking back up the poisoned sword, he marched towards the king and before anyone could do anything to stop him, Hamlet stabbed his uncle in the chest. Then, just to make sure, he forced the rest of his mother's poison down his uncle's throat. "That is for my father. Now die and prepare to be judged in front of God," Hamlet sneered to his father's murderer, "My vengeance is completed. My only regret is that it took me so long to complete it, but it is done." Stepping away from the king who was now dying on the floor, Hamlet realized that yet another life had snuck away from him as Ophelia mourned over her newly dead brother.

Starting to feel weak, Hamlet stumbled forward only to be caught by his friend, Horatio. "Hamlet, Hamlet! Hold on, the doctor is coming, just hold on!"

Hamlet shook his head as his breath started to get shallower, "No, I shall die here. I have had my vengeance, and now it is my time to join my father in that mysterious afterlife."

Now Ophelia was beside Hamlet, squeezing his hand, "No, Hamlet! No! You mustn't die! If you die, I shall follow you!" Ophelia quickly dropped Hamlet's hand and ran over to the king. Picking up the cup of poison, she held it to her lips and cried, "Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after?" Dropping the cup which clattered to the floor, Ophelia returned to Hamlet and pulled his shirt sleeve up to reveal the infected wound. She continued, "I will kiss thy wound. Haply some poison yet doth hang on it, to make me die with a restorative." Ophelia kissed Hamlet's wound causing him to chuckle weakly.

"Ophelia, that tickles," Hamlet smiled sadly at his love, glad to have her there with him during his final moments on earth. Ophelia withdrew with tears in her eyes and then pressed her lips against Hamlet's, determined to steal at least one last passionate kiss from her love before death did them part. Pulling away, tears running down her soft cheeks now, "Thy lips are warm." Upset at the cruel fate that was driving them apart, Ophelia ran away from Hamlet again.

While she was otherwise occupied, Horatio held on tight to Hamlet, "My Lord, I shall also follow you after your death. I cannot live without you!" His voice broke, "We are best friends and so much more as well. You are also the king now. You cannot leave your kingdom like this!" Fat tears fell from his eyes onto Hamlet's face.

Hamlet's eyes were starting to fade as death took him, but before Hamlet allowed the cold grip to take him away, he left his best friend with these parting words: "You mustn't die, Horatio. Who else would be left to tell my story? You need to live on for me. I cannot live the rest of my life, so I ask you to do me this favor and live the rest of yours. Tell my story and live Horatio. Live."

Ophelia, in the meantime, was stealing the spotlight away once again. She was back over at the king's dead body. She pulled the bloody fencing sword out from his chest where it had stayed after Hamlet killed him and held it up high. "I'll be brief. O happy dagger! This is thy sheath!" She pointed the sword at herself and plunged it into her chest. The sword went through her heart and blood spilled out of her back as well as her front. As she also died, she spoke softly, "there rust, and let me die." Ophelia took a single step forward towards her Hamlet and fell over.

At the precise moment that Ophelia fell dead, Hamlet took his last breath. "So like lovers you both were, to die at the same moment, not a breath apart," Horatio mourned his lost love. "Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince: and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest! A glooming peace this night with it brings; the moon, for sorrow, will not show her head. Go hence, "Horatio called to the other servants and people assembled, "Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things and let me speak to the yet unknowing world. How these things came about: so shall they hear of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, and, in this upshot, purposes mistook fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I truly deliver. For never was a story of more woe than this of Hamlet."


	3. Epilogue

Horatio had been sitting at his desk in the dark with nigh light but from a single candle for hours on end. He could not sleep this night either. It had been several months since the unnatural events surrounding Hamlet's death and he still had problems sleeping. To remedy his wakefulness, Horatio did the only thing he could think to do: tell Hamlet's story as he was commanded by Hamlet himself to do.

"The young and beautiful prince came to me often, troubled by his misfortune. I would take him in my arms and gently rock him back and forth, comforting him as best as I could. 'Horatio?' he asked me softly. 'Yes, my sweet prince? What bothers your mind?' I would answer. 'Horatio, I am truly glad that I have thee at my side, for without your love I do not believe I could survive this ordeal.'" Horatio set down his pen to wipe away tears from his eyes.

What he was writing were beautiful untruths he dreamt up, but his heart ached as if they were true and he said aloud, "But my love wasn't enough, was it Hamlet? My love couldn't keep you alive, could it? You died in my arms! I was powerless to save you, the king of Denmark and my one true love!"

Carefully drying his eyes so as to not salt his paper with tears, Horatio continued, "'Hamlet, my love,' I told him, hugging him close to my person, 'I shall do everything in my power to keep you safe, happy, and pleased.' That is when Hamlet pulled away from me and looked up into mine eyes with a bashful blush growing on his cheeks. Being as close as we were I could tell right away what he was thinking and despite my strong and masculine appearance, a feminine blush lightly coated mine own cheeks. 'Horatio,' he called sweetly to me. 'Hamlet,' I gently caressed his face before slipping mine hand down his chest. He moaned sweetly as I…" Horatio's heart beat faster as his pen flew across the page, writing the story of Hamlet.


End file.
